11. Chapter 11
Chapter eleven
A rlo didn’t know exactly what he’d expected a vampire birthday party to look like—lots of black and red with splashes of gold maybe—but a penis-shaped champagne luge wasn’t it.
The grand ballroom had been transformed into what basically amounted to a nightclub. Neon-lit bars had been set up at four different locations, including the upper gallery, while a dance floor had been erected in the center of the room, complete with pressure-sensitive glow pads.
Guests from every walk of life crowded into the space, each one more glamorous than the last. The females dripped in sequins and glitter, their gowns shimmering under the lights. Some males had come dressed in expertly tailored suits, while others sported more whimsical ensembles in bright jewel tones.
A bounce castle big enough for at least a dozen grown men occupied one corner of the room, the inside awash with the purple haze of black lights. In the opposite corner, a massive six-tiered birthday cake, each layer adorned with bright, psychedelic colors and intricate designs that seemed to dance in the light. It looked almost too beautiful to eat, but the occasional partygoer could be seen sneaking a swipe of the frosting.
An ice sculpture in the shape of a giant phoenix perched beside the gallery railing, intermittently breathing plumes of mist that cascaded down onto the guests. Live performers, dressed as mythical creatures, roamed the room or swung from silk ropes, captivating everyone with their acrobatics.
The scent of exotic spices and sweet confections wafted through the air, mingling with the laughter and chatter of the crowd. Despite the opulence and the sheer number of attendees, there was a sense of camaraderie and joy that permeated the scene. No bitterness. No entitlement. Everyone was simply there to celebrate.
A photo booth with an array of quirky props proved to be a popular attraction, with clusters of friends and couples posing for keepsake snapshots. Even the bartenders got in on the fun, mixing up colorful, flaming cocktails that matched the vibrant décor.
Extravagant didn’t begin to describe the atmosphere, but it was also pure, unbridled fun, and Arlo found himself swept up in the contagious merriment. Though technically working, catering to these guests never felt like a chore. Every table greeted him like an old friend, and the only thing they ever demanded was that he share a shot with them.
As a human with a very human tolerance for alcohol, he had mostly declined. Mostly. He may have indulged once or twice, just enough so that by the time his shift ended, he had a nice, cozy buzz.
After clocking out on a tablet at one of the bars, he returned to the crowd to search for his mate. He couldn’t even remember the rich vampire’s name, let alone how Itri had garnered an invitation to the birthday bash, but it had worked out perfectly. Not only had it given him the opportunity to casually flirt with the dragon throughout the night, but now he had an excuse to stay.
“My shift is over,” he said, reaching out to Itri through their bond. “Where are you?”
A response came within seconds. “Near the staircase. Do you want me to come to you?”
“No, stay there. I’m headed that way.”
He wound through the throng of people, shaking his head with an indulgent smile when a few of them tried to lure him into a dance. Oh, he definitely wanted to shake his ass on the dance floor, but not with any of those strangers.
“Itri!” he sang when he spotted his mate leaning against the railing of the stairs, right where he said he’d be.
Though probably the most casually dressed person there in a pair of black chinos and a crimson button-down, he still outshined everyone else in the room. The deep red contrasted beautifully with his skin tone, and leaving the top three buttons open made it a hell of a lot sexier than it should have been.
Arlo could admit to being a bit partial, but not in this case. He didn’t miss how women and men went out of their way to pass in front of Itri, batting their lashes as they cast flirtatious glances at the shifter.
A lesser man might have experienced a twinge of jealousy or insecurity at the sheer amount of attention being thrown Itri’s way. Arlo, however, only laughed. They could try all they wanted, but his mate didn’t even glance in their direction. Instead, his eyes remained locked on Arlo, stalking his every step until he finally came to stand in front of him.
“Hey.”
Itri smirked. “Hey.”
“Some party, huh?”
Instead of a quick agreement, Itri looked around the room with an assessing gaze. “We can do better for your birthday.”
The response didn’t even surprise him. It was such an Itri thing to say. “Whatever you say, love.”
The shifter’s grin broadened. “Now you’re getting it.” He hooked a finger into the waistband of Arlo’s dress pants and tugged him forward until their hips collided. “So, what do you want to do first? Bounce castle? Photo booth?”
Arlo stared down at his uniform and wrinkled his nose. “Shower and change.”
No one had deliberately spilled anything on him this time, but he still smelled of vodka, sweat, and coffee.
That last one surprised him the most. While he respected that not everyone wanted to drink alcohol, coffee at midnight seemed like an odd alternative. Then again, he supposed it made sense for a vampire. Now, he had to wonder about the ones throwing back whiskey at what amounted to their lunchtime.
“Dove?”
“Hmm?” He glanced up. “Sorry, I was on a side quest. What did you say?”
Itri chuckled and caressed his cheek. “I asked if you were ready?”
Oh, right. “Yes, but you can stay. I’m a big boy. I wash behind my ears and everything.”
This time, his mate did hesitate, and Arlo could practically see the wheels turning inside his head. Knowing him, he had probably already constructed a dozen different scenarios in his mind of how a simple shower could go horribly wrong.
“I’ll be fine,” he assured. “And I promise I’ll yell if I need you.” He tapped his temple, subtly reminding him that they had a built-in alert system now.
Itri still didn’t look thrilled about the idea, but after a moment, he dipped his head in agreement. “Okay, dove. I’ll wait here.” He tugged him forward again, bending to capture his mouth in a slow, tender kiss. “Don’t take too long.”
“Cheater.” He wondered if his stomach would always flutter when they kissed. He hoped so. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
He felt Itri’s eyes on his back all the way up the stairs, and even when he left the ballroom, he could swear his mate was still watching him.
“Are you back yet?”
Arlo barked out a surprise laugh, startling a couple of fae wandering the corridor in front of him. His hurried apology probably didn’t land the way he wanted it to, either, since he couldn’t stop laughing.
“Go be charming. Get a drink. Talk to your rich vampire friends.”
A long, suffering sigh floated into his head. “If you insist.”
It was a heady feeling to be so loved. While not entirely convinced that he deserved it, he knew he didn’t want to lose it. In an alarmingly short time, Itri had become his entire world.
Maybe Otherlings were onto something with this whole fate thing. It had sure worked out for him, and he made a silent promise that he would never take a single day of the gift for granted.
Bypassing the elevators, he crossed the lobby to the grand staircase, taking the steps two at a time to the second floor. Approaching the door to Itri’s suite, he dug into his pocket for the key, slid it into the keyhole, and pushed the door open.
Distracted by thoughts of his mate, it wasn’t until he’d crossed the threshold that he realized he hadn’t actually unlocked the door. He hadn’t even touched the brass knob.
And the reason for that little detail was currently crouched over one of Itri’s open suitcases in the entryway closet.
The male instantly jerked to his feet, his eyes wide and searching, but with Arlo blocking the only exit, there was nowhere for him to go. At least six feet tall with broad shoulders and a head of blond curls, the guy looked a lot less weaselly than he’d expected.
“You must be Jude.”
“I, uh, I was…that is, I’m…”
“A dumbass,” Arlo supplied for him. A clearly desperate one, but still an idiot. “Do you really think Itri would just leave—”
He coughed and stumbled backwards into the door when a cloud of pink dust billowed from Jude’s hand. His eyelids turned heavy and instantly began to droop. His mouth felt dry, cloying, and his voice caught in the back of his parched throat. Then the world spun—or maybe that was him—before everything went black.
He couldn’t know how long he’d been unconscious, but when awareness returned, he found himself curled into a tight, dark space with a bar digging into his back. The jostling and swaying suggested movement, but he was still too disoriented to know what it meant.
Frigid air spilled into the cramped cage from a small hole no bigger than the diameter of a pencil. Unpleasant, but at least he didn’t have to worry about suffocating. He could also see flashes of artificial light flaring and dissipating in regular intervals. As the grogginess faded, and reasoning returned, he finally recognized them for what they were.
Streetlamps.
The growl and sputter of an ancient motor suggested he was in a vehicle. Going off context clues, like the cold wind and how loud everything sounded, he guessed the bed of a pickup.
Turning and contorting, he managed to get one of his arms free so he could inspect the opening. Maybe he could find a way to expand it. Too dark to see, he could only feel around the edges, frowning when he encountered rough, notched metal. Unfortunately, though, no amount of pulling or wiggling would widen the hole.
With a furrowed brow, he realized the cold metal extended past the opening. He followed it with his fingers, mapping out the uniformed texture as it curved around his head.
A zipper.
The hard bar in his back. The swish of canvas every time he moved. The distinct scent of leather and something that smelled weirdly like Itri’s soap. Piecing it all together, his fear slowly morphed into anger and indignation.
Not only had he been knocked out and kidnapped by the world’s worst criminal, but the idiot had pulled it off by stuffing him into his own mate’s suitcase. The fucking audacity.
“Hey!” he yelled as he punched the top of the case. “Let me out! Hey!”
Of course, throwing a tantrum wouldn’t help him, but it made him feel a little better. Right up until the vehicle made a hard turn, and he went sliding across the bed before smashing into one of the sides.
His head bounced off the hard bottom of the suitcase, then ricochetted to hit the top. The rigid bar—the telescopic handle, he realized—prodded his spine. And the jarring stop made every muscle in his body scream in protest.
“What the hell?” he screamed. “When I get out of here, I’m going to kick your fucking ass!”
Granted, he had no idea how to accomplish the first part, leaving him no choice but to call in reinforcements.
What did he even say? So far, he knew only two things for certain. First, he had been taken from the hotel. Secondly, he was currently locked inside a suitcase and likely being transported in the back of a pickup truck.
The things he didn’t know could fill a damn book.
He had no idea how long he’d been missing, or how far they had traveled before he had woken up. The probability of him still being in Echo Falls seemed slim, but he didn’t know which direction they had gone, what road Jude had taken, or even what the vehicle looked like.
Still, he didn’t see any other way out of this mess. Only his bond with Itri could help him now. Not to mention the fact that his mate made a living out of finding hard to locate items.
If Itri couldn’t help, he doubted anyone could.
“Can you hear me?”
He sent the message to his mate and held his breath as he waited for a reply. While he enjoyed the intimate connection, he still didn’t completely understand how it worked. Not just the hows and whys, but the actual logistics.
Specifically, if they could communicate over long distances.
“I can hear you.” Itri’s laughter drifted into his mind, easing the knot in his chest. “I was starting to think you drowned in the shower.”
Just the sound of Itri’s voice steadied his pulse. Even if he could only talk to the male in his head, the fact that he wasn’t alone anymore made him feel a little stronger, a little braver.
His mate’s response had also provided him with some useful information. Apparently, he had been gone long enough to be noticeable, but not so long that it had become concerning. Good to know.
“Have you changed your mind?” Itri asked. “Do you want to skip the rest of the party?”
“That’s not it. I really want to go to the party.” He took a deep breath and steeled himself for the storm he was about to unleash. “I’m kind of not at the hotel right now, though.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
“Are you at your flat?” his mate asked after a significant pause. “Did something happen?”
Oh, something had happened all right.
“I, uh, kind of bumped into Jude when I went to your room.” Once the dam broke, the words came flooding out in a rush. “You were right about him stealing the sleep powder, and he used it to knock me out, and then I guess he shoved me into one of your suitcases because now I’m in the back of a pickup somewhere, but I don’t know where.”
“Are you hurt?”
He sensed rather than heard the controlled fury. His mate was absolutely losing his shit, but trying to remain calm at the same time. To keep him calm.
“I’m not hurt,” he answered. “Just kind of cramped.”
“Tell me what you know.”
Well, that wouldn’t take long. He’d already covered most of it.
“I saw streetlamps earlier, so I think we were in a town, but I don’t know if it was Echo Falls. How long ago did I leave the party?”
“Only about thirty-minutes, dove. He couldn’t have gotten far.”
“Okay. Good. That’s…good.”
“Your senses are heightened now,” Itri reminded him, and though he spoke with authority, the tension still seeped through. “Use them. What do you hear? Smell?”
Despite already being in the darkness, he closed his eyes and concentrated. “The motor is loud and clunky. I think it’s an older vehicle, or at least, not well maintained. I don’t hear any other cars. Just the wind.”
“That’s good, dove. What else?”
It took him longer than it should have to realize Itri wasn’t asking for a map. His mate just wanted to keep him talking to prevent him from panicking. No rule existed that said Arlo couldn’t do both, though. He could keep himself grounded while also aiding in his own rescue.
“We’re slowing down.” He gritted his teeth and groaned when the entire truck began to bounce. “I think he turned onto a dirt road.” The suitcase slid again, slower this time, giving him a better idea of the direction. “I think we’re going up. Maybe into the mountains?”
“You’re doing brilliantly, dove. Keep talking.”
“Itri?” With anyone else, he would rather die than admit he was afraid. With Itri, he didn’t have to hide. “Please hurry.”